If I Were a Taxi Cab

If I were a taxi cab, I would not charge people. I would delight them with free rides from St. Louis to New York. Babies would love being born in my backseat. I would travel the world, at a good clip, picking up speed downhill. Policemen would wave me by, remembering their free rides. I would play sixties and seventies folk music on my radio. A cute bare foot hippie foot pedal would delight my hippie self. I would rig up a gorgeous orange and red lava lamp with a silver top. And you would call me groovy, cool, and radical.